The Wife of a Dwarf Lord 1: Widowed
by LA Knight
Summary: Fili's wife receives notice of his death. Hobbit-Era. One-Shot. One of the "Wife of a Dwarf Lord" stories. Book-Verse. A/U


**Wife of a Dwarf Lord**

**Widowed**

_"We regret to inform you, Lady Tavari, that your husband..."_

Rowan stared at the letter in her hands, written in Gloin's strong, sturdy script, and felt her eyes burn. She did not blink, or weep, or even gasp. She merely stared, her green eyes stinging.

At the sound of laughter outside, she turned and saw her daughter playing outside through the window on the side of their cottage. Beside the window, on a peg, was the returned, royal blue hood that she had woven and sewn for her husband. On the chair underneath of it was the beautiful cherry wood fiddle her father had carved as a wedding gift to her husband. Both had come home in a rucksack, along with the letter in her hand, delivered by hand by Gloin the Dwarf.

Her daughter, Eryn, was splashing around in the creek that ran by their cottage with Gloin's son, Gimli. She was waiting for her father to come home. Fili...

"Lady Tavari?" Gloin asked gently. "Lady?"

"When have you ever called me Lady?" Rowan asked. "Since I was a child, you have always called me Rowan, and if you were vexed with me, or being stern, I was Sprout." She smiled a little at that. So did Gloin.

"So... I'm a widow." Rowan took a shuddering breath, and Gloin looked at her concernedly. "My husband is dead."

She sank down into a chair, and let her face fall into her hands, her dark, red-brown hair falling around her shoulders. The Dwarf watched as those pale, thin shoulders began to shake, as wet tear drops fell from between her fingers to darken the pale green of her homespun dress. Muffled sobs racked her slender form.

Gloin saw the rough, but still slender and beautiful, lady's hands finally fall away from her face. One rose up only to wipe away one solitary, remaining tear.

"I will grieve when I have time."

Which, Gloin thought, will probably be never.

"For now, I must take care of my daughter. Will you be staying, Gloin?"

The great, red-bearded dwarf shook his head, doffing his forest green hood and bowing to the Lady Rowan. She nodded to him, and went to the door.

"At least some cider, or ale, Gloin?"

"Nay, milady," he said softly. "I have other widows to inform of their new status, though it pains me to do so." He took her hand in his, and kissed her on one of her knuckles. "May Aule keep you, until I return to look in upon you again, dear Sprout."

That got a wan smile out of her. Sometimes he couldn't tell what would do it. Dwarf women were sometimes much easier than his old friend.

"May Yavanna keep you, Gloin son of Groin." She dipped a curtsey to him, and held the door as he strode out. She watched him from the doorway, one of her oldest friends, as he called his son to him and walked down the long and winding road, over the hill and away.

Her heart ached with loneliness as she watched her friend go. Her husband was gone, her daughter half-orphaned. Now she must say good-bye to Gloin and dear, little Gimli...

"May Yavanna truly keep you, my friend," she prayed, and closed the cottage door.

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**Disclaimer-** I came up with the storyline, the Liemuina, etc. I did not come up with the hobbits, the Elvish language, or anything else copyrighted by someone other than me.

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**My sources are:**

_w w w . t u c k b o r o u g h . n e t_

__

_w w w. uib. no/People/hnohf/wordlists. htm_

_The Hobbit_

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Eryn - forests

Tavari - wood spirit

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In the words of JunoMagic:

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